Apocalypse Lord-Chapter 62 - 60: Lin Lan’s Web

Deep within the forest, the pale ground dragged the weak footsteps of the travelers.

Thud.

Someone suddenly collapsed face-first into the snow and remained still.

The leading old hunter turned back to look. He couldn’t see the face of the deceased, only the purple-black frostbites covering the exposed skin.

"Let’s rest for a moment." he said calmly, "Lin, take out the last of the charcoal."

The emaciated people sat down together in a circle.

The black-haired girl named Lin took out charcoal from her bundle, looking at the old hunter.

"Father, Warner is dead too. Last night he tried to snatch the charcoal, and in panic, I pushed him."

Lin murmured, "He fell into the swamp, injured his leg, and then cursed while ending his own life with a rock."

"Hmm."

The old hunter only responded faintly.

Even upon hearing of death, people remained unmoved, their expressions reduced to deadening numbness.

The old hunter fiddled with the last fuel, his gaze darkened.

The world has gone bad.

The Lionheart aristocracy, although brutal in the past, would at least give the civilians some chance to survive. But with the old King’s passing, the nobles’ so-called ’wrath of the former King’ completely engulfed the land.

Countless civilians turned into ’sinners,’ mercilessly abandoned by the aristocracy, driven towards the forest swamps in the Southern Territory of the Kingdom.

The charcoal ignited the dry branches, weak flames started to flicker, and thick smoke drifted toward the sky.

Before long, the old hunter’s expression changed, as a sudden surge of footsteps emerged from the southern forest!

Dozens of soldiers holding sharp blades appeared from behind the trees and began to close in.

The civilians’ eyes gradually filled with fear, knowing that these were more terrifying than beasts and epidemics.

They were Guards of the aristocracy!

Is this the end then...

The old hunter closed his eyes, slowly bowed his head, Lin trembled, and the refugees displayed hopeless resolve.

Unexpectedly, the Guards did neither curse nor draw their swords to slay these fleeing sinners.

The leading young man observed the crowd calmly asking, "Where did you come from?"

"We hail from the Eastern Border of the Kingdom, sir."

The old hunter first stood up, always keeping his head lowered, showing utmost submission, "We are law-abiding civilians, we will never deforest or hunt the nobles’ possessions..."

"Don’t be nervous, we won’t harm you."

The young man merely smiled, having experienced similar situations many times.

"Follow the direction we came from."

Immediately, he started to explain smoothly, "You’ll soon find the road we are constructing. Continue south along the road, once you reach Lord Roland’s territory, someone will naturally settle you."

"Constructing roads..."

The old hunter finally dared to raise his head, scrutinizing the young man before him.

The other carried an aura of confident determination, extraordinary temperament, dressed in snug, attractive leather, with a distinctly expensive light golden longsword on his waist.

When their gazes met, the old hunter quickly lowered his head, offering a compliment, "Thank you for your mercy, noble Knight..."

"Knight?"

Decurion Glen from the Civilian Corps froze for a moment, then chuckled shaking his head, "Don’t misunderstand, there are no Knights here, I’m just an ordinary soldier."

In Seagull Town, ’Knight’ was not a flattering term.

Lord Roland had long belittled the Lionheart Knights, those merciless rogues were enemies the Civilian Corps would purge sooner or later!

At that instant, a member of the Civilian Corps came running back, panting.

"Decurion Glen, the workers have again run into trouble!"

He reported, "Up ahead there are vast swamps, we don’t have enough manpower to cut wood and lay floating bridges!"

The young Decurion suddenly felt troubled.

His militia squad was assisting the workers in building the road north.

This was the main task Lord Roland had arranged for the Civilian Corps recently, yet constructing roads in a forest covered by heavy snow was never easy.

Hard ground was manageable, but encountering soft swamps required them to consider whether to go around or build temporary wooden bridges.

Decurion Glen was unwilling to delay Lord Roland’s road construction plan, but the area he was responsible for was overly complex...

His face displayed helplessness, pondering, "Let’s stop for now, clear the surrounding snow, perhaps we’ll find solid ground amid the swamps..."

Just then, the old hunter involuntarily joined their conversation.

"Sir, if you plan to construct roads northward, the marshes here are much shallower."

He pointed towards the direction he came from, "You only need to fill the lowland with stones and gravel."

Despite the forest being covered in snow, the experienced old hunter could judge the general ground condition using various details, a skill essential for a hunter’s survival.

Decurion Glen’s eyes showed surprise, then he displayed a delighted smile on his face.

"That’s a huge help!"

He laughed with relief, his demeanor changing once more, "Sir, what’s your name?"

"I... I am called Jeff... sir."

The old hunter felt a little flustered.

"Kael! York!"

Decurion Glen immediately shouted to his subordinates, "You two, safely escort Mr. Jeff and his companions back to town!"

He snorted coldly, "By the way, warn those brats under Decurion Jason, Mr. Jeff is a talent I discovered, don’t let them use filthy paws to snatch people!"

"Yes!"

The two young soldiers stepped forward at once, giving enthusiastic smiles to the impoverished civilians, "Follow us everyone, along this road you’ll soon return to town."

The civilians looked at each other, their numb expressions seemed to lighten.

Decurion Glen quickly led his people away.

He still had very important tasks to attend, no time to waste.

Seagull Town’s area was rapidly expanding, and with the workers’ efforts, roads connecting villages and markets began to extend northward.

The gray-haired Lord from afar was patiently weaving his web.

Led by the two young men, the refugees soon set foot on solid, stony road, the old hunter holding his daughter’s hand tightly, staring intently at the backs of the Civilian Corps members.

The old hunter had seen far too much human malice.

He feared once these two left their superior’s sight, they would reveal their greedy nature, then cruelly harm Lin and other refugees.

But that proved untrue.

Not only did the two young men refrain from any malicious action, they even laid down their weapons, voluntarily carrying two elders with frozen knees.

The old hunter lowered his gaze to the road beneath his feet.

The workers’ craftsmanship was somewhat rough, yet to ordinary folk, the act of road construction itself was a rare precious deed.

What kind of noble is Lord Roland really?

The old hunter couldn’t help but mutter, "Strange, strange..."

"Father, will we really be alright?"

The black-haired girl clutched her father’s hand tightly, raising her head asking timidly, "I’m so hungry..."

The old hunter remained silent.

They kept marching, the newly constructed road greatly reduced their travel time, before long, a bustling town appeared in sight.

In the nearest camp, the women seemed to be cooking something in large pots, a peculiar food aroma wafted into Lin’s nostrils.

Her stomach immediately growled.